And One
by Mikiri's Revenge
Summary: Ten thousand was such a large number, almost incomprehensible to consider the sheer amount of people. To Luke, its a number that haunts his every step because it is a loss of life he has caused twice in his short life. A Luke introspective piece


Content Warnings: Genocide, mass murder, suicidal thoughts, trauma, 20k people die, but I blame canon.

* * *

Ten Thousand.

10,000 peop-

Ten _thousand._

And that poor little boy they couldn't save.

Ten thousand people were dead, and it was all his fault. He tried, _he tried,_ to save them and their homes and everything, but in the end he had just ruined it all, destroyed everything.

He mentally railed against the thought, it wasn't his fault, he couldn't have known, how could he have known? He had been in control, but then Master Van had said something, and it was like trying to grip sand, the more he tried to control it, the faster it slipped through his fingers.

The harsh rejection of his friends still burned. He'd hardly ever been outside, Master Van was one of the few people whom he had trusted to help him do the right things, but he had- he had!

Ten thousand people.

He was only alive because of Tear's fonic hymn, Master Van had left him to die while he escaped with Asch. It broke his heart, what was left of it after causing the deaths of ten thousand people, to know that to Master Van he wasn't even worth the energy to deal with. Master Van hadn't saved him, but he also hadn't killed him, but he had _tricked him._

His friends couldn't look at him, all he had was Mieu trying to comfort him. It _wasn't his fault_. It wasn't, it couldn't be, he barely knew anything about the outside world, how could he be able to change it like _that_. But, ten thousand people were gone and someone had to take the blame. Master Van left him to die, and failing that, to live with the knowledge ten thousand people were dead at his hands. And that boy, that boy drowned while they watched, unable to do anything at all and Luke could still hear him calling.

 _He's not worth it_. That's what Anise had said when he tried to explain, how could he explain, it wasn't his fault, it couldn't be his fault. Tear thought he had no good in him, and how could he argue? He may have been tricked, coerced, _lied to_ but he was the one who had done it.

He cried, sobbing uncontrollably in the way that small children did into the metal deck of the Tartarus. Even Mieu said it was his fault, and sure, the tiny cheagle had been trying to be reassuring, but somehow he just felt worse.

He couldn't save Akzeriuth, he couldn't save that little boy, he couldn't even save himself. His friends were right to leave him, he was just a stupid dreck like Asch kept saying. Maybe he was just a stupid, useless…

Replica.

Not even a person, just a useless clump of Seventh Fonons in the shape of a different person. He had no memories from before seven years ago, he was just a useless weapon, designed to explode and then die in Asch's place.

It was his fault, he knew it deep down.

Ten thousand people.

Gone.

* * *

Neutralize the miasma, of course it came back to that.

Neutralize the miasma to save the world, like the last attempt had gone _so well._ Maybe they thought something else would happen. But no, Jade said it needed the sacrifice of ten thousand people, that damning number that still haunted Luke's nightmares. Ten thousand people to save everyone else, what sort of a moral dilemma was this.

Ten thousand people, and just one more. One to control the hyperresonance. One more, but which? Luke, who had already killed ten thousand people, or Asch. Asch whose place he was supposed to take, Asch who he had failed by not getting the Jewel of Lorelei.

He had to save Asch.

He had already killed ten thousand people. Why not take out another ten thousand and die like he was supposed to have back at Akzeriuth. He was already weighed down with their blood, why not die with all those like him. After all, that was Asch's solution. To sacrifice himself and the ten thousand replicas that Van had made.

Luke was a replica.

But unlike the rest he was a replica of a living person, a person whose life he'd accidentally stolen seven years ago. He could give it back, he had to give it back, then Asch and Natalia could be happy. Kimlasca could be ruled by someone who knew what they were doing. Everything would be better is Asch lived.

Maybe Guy would be unhappy, and maybe Tear would be sad, and Mieu definitely would, but it was almost the end of the cheagle's exile so he would be fine. Ion, was already dead so he guessed he'd be seeing his friend soon, but the rest of them would all be fine given a little time. They would all learn to accept Asch, to help him finally cope with having been kidnapped and replaced. It would be good for him, for all of them, if he just took Asch's place.

After all, that's what he was made for, a replica to be killed in Asch's place. A clump of Seventh Fonons that had be coaxed into having a personality was all he was. He wasn't any different then all the replica's that had been convinced their deaths would benefit the world. They weren't part of the Score, they were just empty puppets trying to cut their strings. They were ten thousand empty vessels just taking up space.

He only needed to produce a hyperresonance, something he now had practice with. He was prepared this time, he knew what he was doing. He was ready. His mind was made up and no one could talk him out of it.

He stared up at the Tower of Rem, knowing this would be it. They had already talked Asch out of doing what he was about to do. He knew this was goodbye. His only real comfort was that at least the lift worked this time.

He was ready.

It was time.

Ten thousand of them were going to die today.

Ten thousand, and one.


End file.
